


Challenging Icarus

by Shadowblayze



Series: Fragments 'Verse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblayze/pseuds/Shadowblayze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to secure a promotion, Vernon Dursley must spend two years as the Equipment Quality Control Instructor- a position based in Italy.</p><p>Some scheming from Petunia keeps the magicals from interfering, but events transpire and Harry ends up finding wings.</p><p>Will he fly or will his wings melt under the harshness of reality?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenging Icarus

Grayson’s Heavy Equipment International was the parent company for Grunning’s Drills whose main office in Guildford, England, employed one Vernon Dursley.

This was important information because of the letter that his wife, Petunia Dursley, was drafting to a certain Hogwarts Headmaster.

Vernon was currently a mid-manger, but he had the opportunity to become a Vice-President in the near future.  The reason for her letter, however, was because his promotion hinged on Vernon going to Italy and overseeing the new tech implementation operation for two years.  Italy was actually where Grayson was based after a series of buyout and exchanges, and the newest tech advancements from their Japanese and Chinese contractors were assimilated to the machinery in the plants there, as Italy was much closer and more economical to ship to than England.

The technology then had to be field tested again and again before it was officially sold on the open market- as equipment malfunctions _cost lives_ and _billions of dollars in settlements_.  Therefore, Equipment Quality Control Inspector was a huge promotion opportunity not just in and of itself, but for Vernon’s future career choices with the company.

Petunia’s issue was her nephew, Harry Potter.  He had been dumped on her doorstep without so much as a ‘by-your-leave’ a little over four years ago, and she wouldn’t let the little brat’s _freakishness_ take away her husband’s opportunity!

Fortunately, while she’d despised her sister’s _unnaturalness_ , she’d paid enough attention to know a thing or two about how a nonmagical could play the system if they only knew how.

(Petunia Dursley would have made a _most excellent_ Slytherin.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sucked on a Lemon Drop and re-read the letter before him as he contemplated his options.

“ _Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_My husband has been offered an opportunity to advance at his job, and I will not allow magic to interfere._

_We will be living in Italy for approximately the next two years, and the boy will be going with us.  We will not be selling Number Four Privet Drive, and will be returning here once our time in Italy is complete._

_If you or anyone associated with the magical world attempted to coerce, cajole, or outright impose upon us a will not our own, then the following vow- written in a mix of my freely given blood and Harry’s own freely given blood, and sealed with a spark of his ‘accidental magic’ will immediately go into effect._

_I, Petunia Marilyn Evans-Dursley, will disavow all blood-relations and responsibilities to Harry James Potter should outside forces attempt to coerce, cajole, or outright impose upon any member of the Dursley family a will not of our own making, through any manner that might be construed as an outside force.  These include but are not exclusively limited to Charms and Potions in any form.  I swear that should this situation arise, that I will never again willingly take into my care nor will I shelter as one of my blood, Harry James Potter, and he shall be as dead to me as my sister, Lily Anne Evans-Potter._

_In my blood I have made this Fervent Vow, with my Lifeblood it is Bound._

_Petunia Marilyn Evans-Dursley_

_I somewhat regret that I must take such extreme measures, but you didn’t have the decency to ask if I wanted my sister’s child in the first place, so I felt it best to be safe instead of sorry._

_Regards,_

_Petunia Dursley”_

The Headmaster ruminated for a few moments longer and took a moment to wonder if he should have left Harry Potter with such a woman.

She certainly sounded as if she would have made a quite splendid Slytherin.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Petunia read the Headmaster’s reply and was pleased to note that she felt no sudden urge to suddenly change all of her plans or stop Vernon’s promotion.

The elderly man was obviously quite vexed with her, but he suggested that she and Harry leave a vial of blood buried in the backyard somewhere.

 _Foolish man._   She thought viciously.  _I’ll do one better._

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry had _no idea_ what his Aunt Petunia was doing, but he was getting to eat lots of fruit, so he guessed it was alright.

She’d told him that they were playing ‘Doctor’ and while Dudley might have believed that, Harry was skeptical.  However, there was food, so he let his Aunt take another vial of blood, (that made seven, he’d learned his numbers in Preschool, unlike Dudley), and waited patiently for the next instructions.

After she’d filled the seventh of the strange-looking vials, (she’d dug them out of the _attic_ ), and capped them, she handed them to him and told them to go bury them places that they’d never be found.

Harry shrugged, grabbed another apple and ran off to do as he’d been told.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

(In an effort to connect with her sister, Lily had sent Petunia a set of charmed Potion vials as she knew that Petunia adored fresh-squeezed pepper juices to flavor her cooking with, but she hated the waste it created when she didn’t use them fast enough.  The vials were charmed to be unbreakable and more importantly to _keep the contents fresh_.

Petunia had never used the gift, of course, but she’d been feeling a bit sentimental when she’d received while she’d been pregnant with Dudley, and then she’d just not had the heart to throw it out after Lily had passed.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Between being offered the promotion and leaving for Italy, there was about ten months for the Dursley family to start taking the company-paid Italian classes and for the elder Dursleys to pick the company property that they’d be using for their stay in the foreign country.

Vernon even began to try to cut back on his rather boisterous opinions in an effort to not insert his foot into his mouth, much to his nephew’s amusement.  Every time the eldest male Dursley would start to say something derogatory, he’d cut himself off mid-sentence and his face would go a horrid shade of puce- it was _hilarious_.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

So, it was the Summer of 1986 before the Dursley family plus one departed England for Italy.  They settled just outside of Venice, as Vernon would be traveling a lot and Petunia liked that particular location best.

School here was compulsory from children ages six to sixteen, and the school year ran from September to June, so Dudley and Harry would have most of the summer to acclimate themselves before tackling that particular hurdle.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Italy, Harry decided, was _way cooler_ than England.

Not only was there no crappy cupboard here, but Aunt Petunia also had to be a lot more careful about how she treated him and actually dress him somewhat decently.  Oh, Harry was pretty smart for a six-year-old and he knew that the way his Aunt and Uncle treated him, (or Dudley), wasn’t right, but what could he do about it right now?

His teachers here were _awesome_ as well.

They didn’t let Dudley pull his stunts.  Oh, there were bullies and everything, but Dudley didn’t have the pull here that he’d had back in England, despite his mother’s mollycoddling when they got back to the house.

So, really, Harry was having a blast in Italy.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The first year went by quickly, the Dursley family taking a few trips back to England to clean up Number Four, but otherwise it was fairly quiet save for Dudley’s tantrums and Petunia’s constant nattering about how things would get better when they were back home.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry was seven and it was Spring.

It was turning him into a moody little brat because that meant they were heading back to England soon and he hated that fact.

He loved Italy.  At first it was just the differences from England, but then he grew to love the country for its own charms, and now he didn’t want to go back to Privet Drive’s cookie-cutter neatness after seeing the rawness that the world could hold.

Harry sighed and gathered his things as class ended.

“The fuck are you doing, you trashes?!” A voice growled from down the hall.

Harry would have kept walking, but he heard Dudley’s voice, “Who you calling trash, _hooker’s son_.” The Dursley boy jeered.

“ _Scum_.” The voice was young but the malice fairly dripped off of it, and then there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained groans.

Harry peeked around the corner and saw a boy a few years older than him wailing on Dudley and Dudley’s ‘friends’.  There was someone coming up in his blind spot, though.

Truly, the young Potter didn’t really stop to weigh his options much, because the dark-haired boy with the ragged clothes had thrown a _spectacular_ punch in Dudley’s face that Harry was going to remember _forever_.  So Harry slipped forward and kicked out the back of the knees of Opportunist and slid into place at the other kid’s back.

The other stiffened and Harry got an elbow to the side, but he just grunted and took out another idiot who tried to come up in _The Guy Who Punched Dudley Beautifully’s_ blind spot.

It wasn’t much of a fight after that, and pretty soon it was just the two of them.

The Guy whirled around and threw a punch at Harry who absently dodged, “Hi.” Harry said cheerfully, “The blonde idiot is my cousin who talks crap about my dead Mum all the time.  Thanks for punching him.”

Red eyes blinked slowly at him, “He’s a piece of shit.” The other said bluntly.

“I live with him.  Trust me, I know.”

There was the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall and the other cursed colorfully.  “Go.” Harry told him, “I got this.”

The other eyed him warily and Harry grinned, “They’ll never believe I did this, and you’ll be long gone.  _Go_.”

The other boy grabbed his bag and hesitated for a moment, “Xanxus.”

“Harry.”

Xanxus snorted derisively and scoffed, “What a dumbass name, trash.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus, as it turned out, was the embodiment of everything that Harry loved about Italy.

He was raw and rough and jagged, but if you cared to take the time to look and be patient there were depths to him that were breathtaking.

Xanxus’ mother was actually a sex worker, and the boy was entirely unabashed about admitting that fact, so Harry told him his own story, and they bonded over shitty parenting stories.  Apparently Xanxus’ mother was messed up in the head and she was getting worse every day, causing the other boy a great deal of stress as he tried to keep her safe and keep up with his schoolwork.

Harry, having a great deal less loyalty to the Dursleys than Xanxus had to his mother, started to work extra hard to help the other with his work. 

Xanxus taught Harry how to fight; Harry helped Xanxus catch up in math and English.

Then that summer came, and _everything changed_.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus had been getting moody about Harry’s impending move, and Harry had been getting _moodier_ about it, so it was no surprise that their tempers bubbled over.

The fire that erupted on Xanxus’ hands was new, though.

Xanxus’ mother had come bursting in with a crazed glint in her eyes babbling about clams and Bosses, and Harry hadn’t understood half of it, but something inside him _twisted sharply_ at the thought of the woman following through with her plan of calling her former client.

(Accidental magic reacts to strong emotion, whether the caster wants it to or not- hence the name ‘accidental’.)

So, as she turned to go back down the steps, she tripped, and neither boy was quite quick enough to save her.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus and Harry stood in front of the modest grave. 

Actually, it was just a marker, as Xanxus’ mother had been cremated.

“So,” Harry began softly, “I’ve been thinking.”

“There’s something new.” Xanxus snarled.

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry continued strongly, “That I hate England and my relative and you’re my only friend.”

There was silence for a moment.  “What are you saying, trash?” Xanxus growled, his fists clenched at his sides as he looked down and away from Harry.

“I’m saying,” Harry continued steadily, “That we’re all we’ve got, Xanxus.”

“You’ve got those Dursley fuckers-“

“ _They fucking hate me and you know it_!”  Harry burst out, “They’d dump me in a ditch if they could, and it’ll be back into the cupboard with me as soon as we’re back there.  They call me a freak, they know something is different about me- maybe I’m like you?  We’re friends, Xan!  If we’re the same it’s all the more reason to stay together!”

Xanxus looked at Harry, and Harry hated the lost, broken look in his friend’s red eyes.  “At the end she was babbling about me being the bastard of the Vongola Famiglia Boss, but if she’d had a client like that we’d never have lived in this Slum.” Xanxus said after a few minutes of tense silence.  “But that means that my father was most likely Mafia, if these Flames come from there, so if I want answers, that’s where I’ll have to go.”

“We.  That’s where we’ll have to go, idiot.”

“Heh.  Suit yourself, trash.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The Dursley family returned to England in 1987, and Vernon was promoted in 1989.

Harry Potter, however, never left Italy.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

One of the last things that Harry did as a member of the Durlsey household was rob them, (not a difficult task).

As Harry wore glasses and they were crappy enough to be distinctive, Xanxus dragged the other boy to an Optometrist who was more interested in money than legality to fix that issue. 

While they waited for the prescription to be filled, they binned the old glasses far across town before circling back to the Slum and paying one of the ladies to add some subtle streaks of color to Harry’s hair that would throw off anyone who was looking for his usual hair color.

“It’s all about what they’re _expecting_ to see, sweetheart.”  The Firefly, (which was the colloquial term for a sex worker), explained as she worked the chemicals into his hair.  “You’re young, so they expect you to be stupid and get caught by a gang or be scared.  They don’t expect you to be methodical and cautious.  Changing your glasses and the colors in your hair, along with borrowing Xanxus’ clothes will help you blend in quite nicely.  No one pay attention to Xanxus, either, unless he’s fighting- so I doubt that you two will face much trouble once you relocate to the other Slum to lay low for a while.”

So, not three hours after he’d officially abandoned the Dursleys, Harry Potter was nearly unrecognizable.

As they made their way back towards the Optometrist, Harry glanced at his friend, “Do you think they’ll tell on us?”

Xanxus snorted, “To the cops?  Never.  Especially not about one of their own.  I’ve been on the edge of the streets long enough to know the difference between a brat throwing a fit and genuine need, the fact that I’m letting you tag along says it all, trash.”

Harry grinned, despite the full weight of being responsible for his own survival pressing down on him, “So, I have a dumb name.”

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

“And my Aunt made me bury vials of my blood in our yard back in England.”

“You told me about that.  _Crazy bitch_.”

Harry took a deep breath and turned to face his friend, “Xanxus, I know this sounds crazy, but I think we should do some type of blood-brother oath.  It just feels important.”  Harry flailed a little and looked at the ground, not wanting to see the disgust and rejection in his friend’s eyes.

Xanxus, on the other hand, was frozen.

Blood-siblings were a _big fucking deal_.  They were family that _you chose_ , and there was no going back after an oath was made.  The Rite had its history back in Ancient Rome, which wasn’t so much a forgotten fragment of history by the people who could see the remnant of the once-great society during their daily lives.  The little dark-haired, green-eyed boy was his only friend, (although Xanxus had never admitted that), but something like possessive fire flared to life in his gut at the idea of binding the other to him as _family_ through _blood_.

The silence had stretched thick between them and Harry’s shoulders had hunched and he was shuffling nervously.  “Alright.”  Xanxus said in a much calmer voice than he felt, “But I get to pick your name.”

Harry’s head snapped up and he smiled breathtakingly, heart-stoppingly beautifully at the other, “Sure!”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

They finished their transaction at the Optometrist and hurried back to Xanxus’ apartment, (it was paid for another week, and the landlord was a Slum Graduate who Xanxus had talked into transferring the rest of the rent into another building in the other Slum instead of just refunding the money).

The two sat facing each other on the clean, but worn floor of the dining room/living area.

Xanxus handed Harry the knife hilt-first, his eyes steady.

(His heartbeat was loud in his ears though, because surely Harry would come to his senses and see that his shitty middle class family was better than anything _Xanxus_ could offer him.)

Harry grasped the knife’s handle and slid the sharp blade through the tender flesh of his palm without a moment’s hesitation, whimpering a, little at the sting.

(Xanxus was his best friend, his whole world.  Harry never wanted to go back to being that boy in the cupboard.)

Xanxus took the blade and slashed his own palm with barely a grimace, and reached up to press their bleeding palms together.

He recited the vow, and Harry repeated it back to him, as their blood mingled and fell into the bowl they’d placed to catch the excess.

Something strange tingled along their senses, alighting Xanxus’ red eyes with the same type of delight that they shone with when he was in the midst of a truly amazing fight.  Harry’s green eyes blazed with something otherworldly as the tension in the room _built_ _and built and built_ until-

“-my brother, Emesto.”

The tension shattered, light flared, and fire burned.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

When they’d come to a little while later,  before Xanxus could properly  freak out about the black-ish tar covering Emesto’s face, the first raspy words out of his new sibling’s mouth was, “’Emesto’.  You named me ‘ _Serious_ ’?

Xanxus grinned unrepentantly, “You’re a serious _pain in my ass_ , aren’t you?”

His new brother tried to meld further into the floor and groaned, “That sense of humor of yours ought to come with a _warning label_.”

The other scoffed and shifted over to swipe the bow, (absently noting that it was empty and smelled burnt), and moved over to the sink to quickly wash it and refill it with some warm water and grabbed a dishcloth before making his way back over towards the younger boy.  “How are you?” Xanxus asked quietly as he gently started to scrub at the blackish crap.

“Ok, actually.” The other replied honestly, “I’ve got a headache, but it’s like a _good headache_?  I don’t know, it’s like I’d had had a headache, but now I don’t, but my body hasn’t caught up yet.”

“That makes exactly _no_ sense, Mes.”

Mes laughed brightly, “ _I did it Xan,_ did you see?”

Xanxus lips curled into something warmer without his permission, “I saw brat.  You’ve got fire too.  It’s different colored than mine, though.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

 _Having a little brother_ , Xanxus mused to himself as he watched Mes sleep, _was way different than just having a best friend._

Suddenly Xanxus’ anger and rage was thrice as sharp and concentrated as it had ever been, helping the elder boy to focus on what the duo needed to do _next_ instead of dwelling on _what ifs, could haves, or should haves_.

It still amazed Xanxus, nearly even nearly two years after their blood oath, that Mes had so easily discarded his old life for him.  Mes also never complained about anything that Xanxus _expected him to_ \- like the food quality or clothing or the types of jobs they’d had to take on to survive or the lack of any of the comforts that Mes should have been used to, growing up with money like he did- instead Mes would whine about Xanxus working too hard or ignoring him or not letting them sneak into a museum.

Xanxus shook his head as he ran his fingers through Mes’s messy hair, making a mental note to have it touched up soon.

They’d had a few run-ins with other people who could use the same fire as them, but none of those encounters had been conducive to asking questions, and one group had tried to kidnap them.

Well, they had tried to kidnap Mes, as he was smaller.

(Xanxus had lost control and burned them all to less than ashes.  He’d only come back to himself when he’d realized that Mes was standing in the inferno, gripping his shoulders and crying for Xanxus to come back to him.  Mes hadn’t even been concerned that he’d been _standing in fire_ , he’d been worried about _Xanxus_ \- the ridiculous brat.)

While two children, (well, Xanxus was thirteen this year and Mes would be ten), would normally be prime targets for trafficking or gangs, they were anything but conventional.

Growing up with a Firefly for a mother had taught Xanxus more about the darker side of the world than most ever knew existed and he doubted that he ever had much innocence in the form of ignorance.  Mes also had the uncanny instincts of a survivalist fox, and between the two of them they’d managed to keep up with their education, (Mes just working up to Xanxus’ grade level to make things simpler), and stay out of the normal pitfalls of street kids.

Xanxus tensed as he heard the window in the next room slide open, and he shook Mes awake with a hand over the other boy’s mouth.

Soundlessly they ghosted towards the opposite side of door, making sure to stay out of sight of the room’s window.

(Some of their ‘jobs’ had been taking out drug-dealing scum.  They’d learned about snipers when one had nearly taken Mes out, and only the boy’s uncanny reflexes had saved him.)

They didn’t hear any footsteps, which meant that whoever was after them was a damn professional.

Xanxus forcibly evened out his breathing and fell into his battle mindset.  Since those fuckers had tried to kidnap Mes, they’d had a couple run-ins with people like this, which is why they had taken to sleeping in shifts.

The door swung open, and the boys struck- hard and fast and lethal.

Unfortunately, they weren’t up against ordinary assassins.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus snarled as the fucker stepped closer.  “I’ll bring us all down before I let you take us.” He raged as he brought out the darkest part of his fire.

The man with the sword, (who had _wounded_ Mes who _bleedingbleedingbleeding_ behind him), came to a stop just outside of Xanxus’ absolute limit.  “I am Tyr, the Boss of the Varia, the Vongola Famiglia’s Independent Assassination Squad.”  The man said simply, blue eyes cold as he stared at Xanxus, “The group of people you burned to death six months ago were members of the CEDEF- the Vongola’s External Advisors.  They sent assassins- _good ones_ \- and none of them returned, so the matter came to the Varia.  I expected an older target, honestly, for some of the assassins that you’ve taken down.  As I hold no loyalty to the CEDEF outside of their connection to the Vongola, I want to hear about the event from your perspective- as I believe we might have more in common that I previously believed.”

Xanxus inwardly snarled, but this man was _damn good_ , and Xanxus knew he’d have to kill himself _and_ Mes to get him.  That was unacceptable when there was a possible alternative, even if the alternative made him want to gnash his teeth.  “We got hired to take out some drug runner scum, and those fuckers showed up.  We fought, they grabbed Mes and tried to shove him in a car, I flipped my shit, they died.”

The man hummed, “Mes.  The boy behind you?”

“ _My brother_.” Xanxus snarled, the sound being pulled from the depths of his soul as he remembered that his little brother was still bleeding behind him.  (Though Mes had long learned to not make pained noises when Xanxus was already in a temper.)

“The drug scum that you were hired to take out were trying to break into the wider Mafia, most likely.  CEDEF uses groups like that as information sources.” The man- Tyr- said after a long moment, “The past few Bosses have developed a liking for grabbing Flame Active children early which allows the CEDEF to indoctrinate them to be entirely dependent and loyal to them.”

The boy shrugged absently filing the new terms away for later consideration, “Not a bad tactic, fucking shitty as it is.”

“Think so?” Tyr’s lips twitched, “The Varia are different.  We’re small, brutal, and batshit crazy by most standards.  We’re also the absolute best.”

“Oh?”

“You agree to work for us, we’ll pull you up to Quality- Varia Quality.  You’ll be doing pretty much the same as you’ve been doing up until now, just on a grander scale.”

“I’m no one’s lapdog.” Xanxus shot back fiercely, his hackles raising at the thought of being caged.

Tyr just raised an eyebrow, “My blade is Flame-forged.  Unless a Sun Flame user heals your brother, he’ll die.”

Xanxus was damn good at sniffing out liars, but this man had a damn  good poker face.

The question was- was Mes’ life worth it?

It wasn’t even a fucking question.

“I don’t deal with stupid shit.  People get in my face, I’ll put them the fuck down.” Xanxus said by way of reply.

Tyr grinned, “Welcome to the Varia.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―


End file.
